Sheath
by Sentury
Summary: The end of the war was an opportunity for Jaffar and Nino to forge a new life together away from the Fang. But their journeys, both separate, but not independent of one another, would take their lives to hardships and places they could never expect. For one, it would be the climb to becoming one of the most powerful people in Elibe. And the other, a chance to regain his soul.


_Hiiii. So, I'm still alive...if anyone out there still knows who I am. Story time, so many rewrites...still sucks, just decided to publish anyway, I hope you enjoy. _

* * *

"Jaffar, stop!"

Lightning flashed through some windows, revealing for a few scattered seconds Jaffar's outstretched arm, his dagger hanging inches from a terrified man's throat. Around him were five others standing at a cautious distance, clutching crude, rusted weapons that somehow shimmered in the dark. Tactically, it was probably a sound decision to kill the lights. Nino didn't know much in the way of strategy, but attacking so suddenly and with superior numbers beneath the cover of darkness was a maneuver she suspected worked well against most opponents. But it revealed a clear lack of understanding of their enemy, a misappropriation of the values they awarded to these perceived advantages.

Jaffar was not like other men. In battle, darkness was a dangerous thing, it was the reason Mark keep their company so well stocked on torches during their campaign against Nergal, because he knew that the cover of night was as good a weapon as the sharpest blade in their armory, and that an enemy less skilled and worse equipped could devastate an army simply because he knew better the terrain and struck at the moment when forces were most disoriented and most afraid. But Jaffar had been born in darkness, raised in it, and then lived in it. Even among the Fang it was rare for any soldier to catch glimpse of him during the day or in any kind of light, and often his assignments were reserved for duties meant to be carried out in the shadows. Jaffar's life had been cold, hard, and empty, to the point where the only time he felt any varying degree of comfort was when he with cloaked beneath the cover of darkness. He had spent so long a time there that Nino had grown to suspect that he now feared the light.

"Please," she said apprehensively, not failing to notice the anxiety in her own voice, "please, we didn't come here to fight, we'll go if you want, but please, no more."

She fell to her knees. Nino was tired. She was tired of running from town to town, every time leaving a trail of corpses behind her. Nino had killed people before, she'd killed her own comrades before. Nino even raised her hand against her own brother, all for the sake of the world, for a cause she believed in. But now they were killing people again, and for what, survival? Their lives didn't feel worth that much to Nino anymore, not when they were killing people who just thought that they were hunting outlaws.

A large figure approached, Nino squinted up at him from the floor, her eyelids heavy with fatigue, hair greasy and mangled, face spattered with flecks of dried blood and dirt, but she tried to meet his eyes proudly and with confidence.

He stopped when Jaffar moved to meet him. They stood motionless at the center of the room, both with their weapons raised, but doing nothing else.

"Three o' mine are, awready' dead, lass." He bellowed over Jaffar's shoulder.

"You attacked us!" she shouted back at him, louder and angrier than she meant to. She didn't want to hurt anyone. Nino didn't go anywhere with the intention to fight, and Jaffar had yet to understand the concept of free will enough to fight someone of his own fruition, only ever acting in defense of herself. Besides, that wasn't even entirely true, Jaffar had only killed two men, the third was still groaning on the floor a few steps to Nino's left, clutching at a grievous wound to his abdomen. She was rooting for him.

"And you're gunna tell me that you were just stopping by for a bite ta' eat?" The rain was pounding the walls of the small tavern, but there hadn't been any lightning for some time so the man's face was still a mystery to her, but she saw that he was shaking his head and immediately knew that this wasn't a man she could convince. And what man could she convince? It was hard to sound altruistic with three dead men on the floor.

_Two. _she reminded herself, _he can still make it. _

"That's exactly all. We were just headed north, trying to pass through Sacea into Illia. Didn't want any trouble with you or yours until you went and drew a sword on Jaffar!"

He spat. Loudly and with noticeable distain. "You mean the Angel. Who's ta be off'd up there, hm? Didn't know the Fang did business up in Illia."

"We aren't part of the Fang," she fired back. Nino was tired of being judged everywhere she went, tired of dealing with the assumption that wherever they went, they were there to kill someone. All Nino wanted was to go somewhere far away, she chose Illia on a whim, mainly because it was so fragmented and they could probably find a decent piece of land to work. Jaffar didn't mind the cold – didn't mind much, really – and with her magic they could maybe make a decent living growing crops in a place where food sold at a premium. That would be a good life, a life where she could even teach Jaffar a little about life outside of a sword. Was that so much to ask for? Were her sins so great that she didn't even deserve that? Just a place where she didn't have to sleep alone in the dirt while Jaffar kept watch. Nino had a lot of regrets, but she didn't think it was so much to ask for.

Tears were pooling in her eyes, but Nino decided on a different approach, so she rose, wiping her nose with her sleeve as she stood. "We aren't part of the Fang, not anymore. But you're right, you've already got two dead, and if you let us just walk away now you won't lose any more men. Maybe you can even save that one." She pointed to the wounded man on the floor, he was convulsing in a pool of his own vomit. The man broke his confrontation with Jaffar and went to kneel beside him. Nino wished, for what seemed the thousandth time, that she could just get her hands on a staff. She wasn't the best healer, and they _were _expensive, but in situations like this one it would be a perfect opportunity to try and prove her intentions.

"You think we'll just let ya walk outta here just like that?" The tone betrayed his words and suddenly multiple, frequent flashes of light burst through the windows followed by a roar of thunder. At once, Nino recognized the identity of all her assailants. Light reflected off their faces and their clothes, revealing a motley collection of farmers and townsfolk – the poorest excuses for fighters or soldiers – nervously clinging to their poultry excuses for weapons. One was even crying, a grown man, but crying still. They were all focused on Jaffar, who was somehow positioned perfectly in the only spot in the Tavern still in the shade as the lightning shined in from the outside.

"Farmers," Nino whispered absurdly to herself. Something stirred in her gut, making her feel so ill that she almost fell back to knees. They were fools, fools no doubt driven and inspired by the burly man with the broad sword, probably a bounty hunter, using righteousness as a motivation to gain allies against what he knew was a superior opponent. Killing the lights made even more sense to her then; maybe he hoped Jaffar wouldn't notice. He did though, Nino was sure of it, he probably knew long before she did.

"Look," she said quickly, "I think you've realized your mistake in this, so we're going to go. Let's move Jaffar. Don't come after us and you won't hear from us again." She didn't relish venturing back into such a horrible storm, but it was better than all the blood on the floor here.

"Nino…" Jaffar replied apprehensively in a rare moment of disobedience. She knew at once what he was thinking, lamenting that he was probably right.

"It's okay," she said more gently, "come on."

Without another word he sheathed his daggers and followed her to the door, removing his cape and draping it over the top of Nino's head like he did every time they were facing adversarial elements. It was a gesture that always made Nino smile, even now as they were fleeing a battle, because Jaffar still found it difficult to emote, struggling in conversations and intimate interaction. But the mere action of the way he draped the cape over her with a gentleness you never would guess he possessed and doing so without saying a word showed her that there was a part of Jaffar separated from the Angel of Death. There was no agenda to Jaffar, no alternative action and so he was direct even in the ways he was indirect. So gestures like offering up his protection for her always said to her things like, "I love you and I want you to be dry, I want you to be safe" in the only ways Jaffar knew how. Nino never turned him down; even though she was sure he would catch a cold one day.

Nino was so caught up in the moment that she didn't notice until just before she left that the bounty hunter was staring at her. She couldn't tell for sure because it was so dark, but she figured he was because he turned away once she faced him, returning his attention to the wounded man on the floor. She suspected that he was maybe at least somewhat of a good man who felt a little bit guilty for sending such a sad force against a man like Jaffar.

_Good, _Nino thought, satisfied that she wasn't the only terrible person in the world, the only guilty soul. Then she left, Jaffar close behind her.

They'd been running for a while when Jaffar came up next to her and said softly, still in stride, "Nino." His tone wasn't as angry or disappointed as one might expect, just concerned, in the most strategic and practical way imaginable.

When she didn't answer he spoke again, "They're going to come after us."

That wasn't a fact. It had become the pattern in the exploits, and Jaffar knew far better than she about these things, but until she saw them approaching from behind, or with a sword at her throat in the morning, she wouldn't believe it. So she stared straight ahead, a little out of breath, not acknowledging Jaffar's existence.

She felt his eyes on her when she stayed silent. Finally, he said matter-of-factly, "We should have killed them." And something inside Nino broke down. She stopped at once and looked up at Jaffar, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders as rain soaked them both.

"Jaffar! They're people! Don't you get it? We're killing _people! _Everywhere we go! You can't keep doing this, it isn't right." She could see the confusion in his eyes. The fact was that Jaffar just didn't get it; all he could understand was the preservation of their lives, of _her _life. He didn't see right or wrong, only her. And while that was romantic in some sense, it wasn't enough for her.

It had been a few months since Jaffar, in the only moment Nino had ever seen him display any genuine anger, declared to Nergal that he would be no one's killing engine. And that had made Nino proud and happy, but he was still a killer at his core, a man who would slay indiscriminately for the sake of his ambition, even if that ambition was protecting someone he loved. That made her hate him sometimes, and it made her even hate herself too; because how could she love a man like that? What did it say about her that she was willing to overlook the fact that the man she loved either didn't understand or didn't care about taking others' lives.

"You have to stop." Rain water was dripping through every crevasse of her body.

Jaffar stood erect, eyeing her with the same unflinching gaze he always had. It was a strong look, one that she could easily imagine bringing fear into anyone who looked upon him, but Nino saw from the beginning the truth behind it, even as Jaffar himself remained unaware. Ultimately, behind the lifeless emptiness that was his shell, Nino saw someone who was lost and confused, his only vague understanding in life being the resolution of whatever tasked he was ordered to accomplish. And that wasn't enough for any man.

"I won't let them hurt you." He finally said, identifying Nino as his current task in need of accomplishment.

But _he _was hurting her, and why couldn't he see that. "Let's just go, Jaffar."

She let her words linger in the air for a moment before turning to leave. She could feel him trying to speak, sensing that something was wrong and searching for a way to make it right. But he only ended up taking a step forward to reach out his hand and awkwardly grasp her shoulder before nodding. She turned and ran, knowing he would follow, almost hoping he wouldn't.

Nino was freezing when Jaffar finally pointed to a rock formation not far off to their left. It was deep into summer, and even though the air felt heavier than usual, the violent winds of the storm sent a shiver up her spine.

Nino was miserable. The chill aside, the rain had soaked her clothes to the point that she felt as though she was carrying an extra thirty pounds. Her entire lower half was covered with mud, and her stomach was roaring from the meal they'd been deprived. But Most of all Nino, was tired, not of always running, not of always being hungry, not even of never sleeping, Nino was tired of thinking about all the blood that she'd seen in her life, and how she was the only one in her life who ever seemed to care.

So when they stumbled up to the small Cliffside, not deep enough to quite be a cave but large enough and far enough away that it was a sufficient place to spend the rest of the night, Nino immediately hit the floor, not even bothering to ring out her clothes or remove Jaffar's cape. The prospect of resting her head against the rocks was just too alluring.

When Jaffar approached she fixated on his boots, not wanting to look at him again for some reason. They were also muddy and drops of water drenched the rock face around him.

"I'll take watch," he said.

_Of course you will, _Nino thought, _because everyone is out there to kill us, so you have to kill them first. _

But all she said was, "Okay." Then she rolled over and stared at nothing – a different nothing.

And for the second time that day, Jaffar just…lingered. She wasn't looking at him, but she imagined that he had that same look in his eyes, hovering uncomfortably over her knowing that something was wrong but incapable of ever figuring out what it could be. Nino guessed there were maybe three or four steps between them; it felt like miles, like to just bridge the distance would take a lifetime. It made her feel so alone, so cold. When he finally left, Nino felt a sudden and odd relief, immediately falling into a deep, easy sleep.

Nino was surprised when she awoke to the sun shining into her irritated eyes. Jaffar normally woke her before dawn so that they could keep moving; it was never safe to stay in one place for long, especially if they thought pursuers might be nearby. She was jolted awake by the momentary fear that Jaffar might be dead, that someone had killed him during his watch and left her all alone after they'd been unable to find her and Jaffar had refused to tell them where she was. But it immediately passed, it would take twenty skilled men to take down Jaffar and even then they would need the distinct advantage of finding him before he found them. Impossible. So she stumbled outside, still a little disoriented from the first great sleep she'd had in days and went to find him.

Nino tried her best not to be overdramatic, but the fact of the matter was that she felt everything that happened in the moment so distinctly and so profoundly that she had a bit of a tendency to overstate the significance of things. But despite her unconscious understanding of that fact, Nino was still sure that the warmth she felt from the sun that morning was easily one of the greatest feelings she had ever known. It was amazing the way a single day could transform the world. Just a few hours earlier she had stood in the same spot she did now, where everything had been cased in darkness and the winds and rains had roared with such anger and ferocity that it had torn down trees and did everything in its power to try and blow Nino and Jaffar out of existence. Now, there was light, so glorious that it warmed Nino through her still damp clothes all the way to her soul, and she gazed at the world around her, content to be there .

She suspected that the rain must have only stopped a few hours earlier because there was still a thick film of water rushing all over the ground and the air still smelled like a storm. But the skies were clear, truly, Nino had never seen such a pure, untarnished blue as she did the sky that day. It was completely cloudless and empty, only marked by the glow of a great yellow ball that Nino almost swore she could touch it. It was like a painting, it made her so happy; it was almost like falling in love.

Jaffar caught her eye not far off to her left, down a small hill where the water was rushing to a flooded river. He was almost completely still with his back towards her, his only movement being a subtle shift of his right arm that Nino knew meant he was sharpening one of his daggers.

"Nino," he said as she approached. He slid around on the rock he was sitting at to face her. She noticed he was cleaning his blade, not sharpening it. "Nino…I – I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I shouldn't have questioned you."

There was an uncanny kind of desperation to his voice, one of those distinct times since they'd been together that Nino noticed some genuine emotion behind his words. And then she saw also the dark red lines in the white of his eyes that snaked their way to his irises, and the almost black color around his eyelids themselves. It all reminded Nino that the pathetic looking creature before her was a man, wearied, confused, and maybe even a little scared, but a human being all the same.

"No, it's okay, Jaffar." It wasn't okay, but some part of Nino still felt like she meant it, so she didn't consider it a lie.

She brought his head into her stomach and hugged him gently. It was then that she noticed the blood on the side of his arm, and the rag he was using on his dagger covered with a similar shade of red. She thought about why she'd been able to sleep so long, and why Jaffar hadn't been to sleep yet himself, and why he was outside trying to wipe away the evidence of a battle. She was infuriated at first, thinking that he had turned back in an effort to cover their tracks, but then she remembered who he was.

"They came after us, didn't they?"

He tightened his hands at her sides and nodded into her stomach.

"And you killed them, all of them?"

Tighter still.

"Yes," he said after a moment, "all of them."

Nino swore he almost sounded remorseful.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please, I would love to know what you think if you made it all the way down to this. Hope everyone has a great day. _


End file.
